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We'll rant and we'll roar like true Newfoundlanders.
We'll rant and we'll roar on deck and below,
Until we strikes bottom inside the two sunkers,
When straight through the channel to Toslow we'll go.
I'm a son of a sea cook, I'm a cook in a trader,
I can dance, I can sing, I can reef the main boom;
I can handle a jigger, I cuts a fine figure,
Whenever I gets in a boat's standing room.
We'll rant and we'll roar like true Newfoundlanders.
We'll rant and we'll roar on deck and below,
Until we strikes bottom inside the two sunkers,
When straight through the channel to Toslow we'll go.
Farewell and adieu to ye young maids of Valen,
Oderin and Presque, Fox Hole and Bruley;
I'm bound for the westward to the wall with the hole in,
I can't marry all or a chokey I'll be.
We'll rant and we'll roar like true Newfoundlanders.
We'll rant and we'll roar on deck and below,
Until we strikes bottom inside the two sunkers,
When straight through the channel to Toslow we'll go.
